Am I really getting old?

Both of my kids, especially my oldest, Jonathan (whose is almost 9), like to compare the things they have with the things I had as a child. They've found we have some things in common: Legos (which I definitely don't play with anymore), Transformers, and G.I. Joe. There are, of course, new toys. Jon brings this thing he made today with Atomic Blocks, which are kind of like Legos that light up. He asks me if I had Atomic Blocks as a kid. Then he asked me if I had any technology as a kid, "you know, like TV?" How old do you think I am kid?

For the record, I'll be 29 in April. As I near 30, I realize that I am getting old. VH1 keeps telling me so with retro '80s and '90s shows. Songs that I distinctly remember as new are being called 'classic'. One of the DJs on a local hip-hop station decided to spin some old school tracks, so he played Biggie, Nas, and Snoop Dogg. That's not old-school! Back in the day, I'll give you, but certainly not old-school. Run DMC is old school, not Tupac.

You know you're getting old when you look at teenagers and mutter to yourself 'damn kids'. I'm a restaurant manager, and as such I work primarily with teens and young college students. I'm almost old enough to be a father to some of these girls. The girl that trains all of my hosts is 16, for crying out loud. It's bad enough that they sometimes like to rag on me for being old, like when I squat and my knees won't allow me to get up, or when I talk about a movie they've never heard of, like Spaceballs, but I've even started to tell stories about Life Before The Internet, something these kids know nothing about. Anyway, I guess I should go get a nap in before Golden Girls comes on.........

I'm certain everyone knows this guy: He's the one that always has a story to tell about whatever it is you're having a conversation about. Now, mind you, he wasn't originally a part of said conversation (is he ever?), but he must share his insight. He's been everywhere, done and seen everything. I work with this guy.

He's a dishwasher at the restaurant where I work. Apparently, he once served in the U.S. Army, which is about the only thing that has come out of his mouth that I actually believe. Most people don't want to hear him talk, but I try to encourage him, so as to get the wildest tale possible.

His favorite story to tell, I think, involves Teddy Pendergrass. He claims he saw Teddy Pendergrass going into a gay bar in Beverly Hills in the early 70's or late 80's. This would be shortly before Pendergrass was involved in a car accident that left him a paraplegic, one in which he was in the company of a transvestite. I'm sure this story was big news in 1982, and I'm sure this guy's been telling of his encounter with Teddy Pendergrass ever since.

The point is, I believe that this guy sees or hears stories in the news and assimilates them into his own life. I understand that some people like to be grandiose and tell untruths for the purpose of impressing others, but no one acknowledges the importance of stories. The disinterest when he talks is palpable.

One particular gem happened a couple of weeks back. There was a major earthquake in the Pacific Ocean, prompting tsunami warnings throughout Japan. The next day, he comes in and tells us about the time he was on the beach and outran a tsunami. "Yeah, I saw the water pull away from the beach, and we turned and ran. We were lucky to get out of there!" I said, "Wow, that must of have been scary!" mostly because if I told he was full of shit, he might stop telling me stories. I'm certain this will become an ongoing series.